


Haircut

by GoldenAurora



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Bonding, Budding Love, F/M, Haircuts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-14
Updated: 2013-11-14
Packaged: 2018-01-01 11:09:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 823
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1044124
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GoldenAurora/pseuds/GoldenAurora
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"You need a haircut, Gold."</p>
<p>Emma and Mr. Gold bond over a haircut. T for some sexiness but not progressively explicit. First attempt at a OUAT / Golden Swan story, constructive criticism welcome.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Haircut

Mr. Gold had long since stopped wondering why Emma Swan, the Savior herself, had begun making these increasingly frequent house calls to his shop. She was a royal pariah surrounded by the servants of myth and legend; he knew her loneliness and supposed she was simply seeking companionship from a kindred spirit. He was not only flattered but intensely curious as to where these visits would lead.

They rarely spoke, but the silence was companionable rather than awkward, and they quickly fell into a cozy routine. No matter how restless she was upon arrival, she quickly settled down, sinking into herself with a quiet sigh and a cup of coffee she'd begun helping herself to from the back room. It had irked him at first but he was shocked at how swiftly he became indifferent to her invasion of his personal boundaries.

Sometimes she'd simply wander through the store, trailing her hands listlessly across the glass cases and pausing here and there at items that piqued her interest. Other times he'd look up to find her brushing dust from shelves or cleaning one of the many antiques with a soft cloth. More often than not, however, she would just sit lost in thought, silently observing him as he worked. He watched her too when he thought she wasn't paying attention; truth be told, watching her had become his favorite pastime.

Tonight had been just such a night, with Emma resting her chin on her fists and watching him clean a gilded frame with a tiny brush. Brushing a lock of hair out of his eyes, he glanced up at her and noted the bemused grin tugging at her lips.

"May I help you?"

"Yeah. Get me some scissors and a comb. You need a haircut, Gold."

And so, despite his protestations, he found himself seated in front of the tiny sink in the back room of his shop, head tilted back and eyes closed as Emma's soapy hands combed through his hair. Shielding his face with one hand, she cupped her other palm under the faucet and poured the water over his head to rinse away the shampoo. A tingle ran the length of his spine and he had to stifle a moan of pleasure as she ran her fingers again from roots to ends, gently detangling any knots.

"Okay, up."

When he was upright, she ruffled a towel across his head to absorb excess water, then wrapped a larger one around his upper body. "I had no idea you moonlighted as a hairdresser, Sheriff."

She ran a comb through his hair and laughed lightly, a sound so rare he thought he could count the number of times he'd heard it on one hand. "I used to give the other kids haircuts when I was in the foster homes."

Gold nodded, feeling an unexpected swelling in his chest at Emma's willingness to share even the tiniest bit of information about her past with him. They fell again into silence as she pulled a stool forward and sat behind him. Sliding his eyes closed, his world shrank to nothing but the gentle tug of hair, snip of scissors, and the warmth of her breath on his skin. She shifted slightly, the soft fullness of her breasts pressing briefly against his back, and goose flesh rose across his skin. He bit his lip, swallowing a soft groan.

The sound of the stool scraping backwards startled him, and he slid his eyes open as she moved to his front. "Halfway there," she said, bending forward to rearrange his hair. Her shirt hung low, and though he knew he should avert his gaze he couldn't help but admire the scraps of black lace covering her soft milky white skin. He was surprised by her choice of undergarments, but not nearly as surprised as he was by her leg swinging over his and the slight weight of her settling into his lap.

He gasped softly and shifted under her, a sudden and unexpected heat pooling in his belly. "Emma," he breathed lightly, sounding terribly desperate even to his own ear.

"Don't move, I'm not finished yet."

He met her steady gaze, breath hitching in his throat. He was completely unprepared for the hungry look she gave him before reaching to finish her work. His hands rested in his lap; he could feel the heat pouring from between her spread legs and his fingers curled with a mindless need to touch her. The rushing in his ears and uncomfortable stirring in his groin was making it increasingly difficult to breath. By the time she leaned forward to pull the towel from around him, he felt dizzy with intoxication and incredibly, unexpectedly aroused.

"There. All done," she whispered with a small smile, tossing the towel to the ground. As his arms came up around her and their lips melded together, he briefly wondered how this would change her visits.

Fin


End file.
